


I Gave You All

by datkaa



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Break Up, F/M, I Don't Even Know, Love, One Shot, Sad, Songfic, imagine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-12
Updated: 2013-04-19
Packaged: 2017-12-08 07:16:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/758584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/datkaa/pseuds/datkaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You look into each other’s eyes for just a second and you open your mouth to ask him the question, why does he like you, just why - at the same moment he opens his and says the most honest “I love you” you’ve ever heard.</p><p>In fact, the first I love you you’ve ever heard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Gave You All

**Author's Note:**

> Before you start reading...  
> I want you to listen to a song, "their" song, so please click on this link and listen while you read :)  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dyU5OAAOOBE

You and Harry are lying in bed, he’s behind you with his arms wrapped around your waist and breathing calmly into your ear. Harry’s favourite song is playing from the stereo and you just listen to it, both of you lost in your thoughts.  
  
You’re thinking about your first encounter with Harry and how the hell did this happen, how did the girl in the third stage of Tumblr addiction make Harry Styles like her… there are so many things not really likeable about you, actually, now that you think about it, there is no reason for anybody to actually like you, is there? You’re boring, you’re antisocial, you’re scared to talk to people, you’re scared to show them who you really are. You’ve got like two real friends but even to them you open up very rarely. You’re so awkward and insecure, such a fuck up really. So why is Harry bloody Styles spending his time with you? Not for your sexy figure, that’s for sure. He could be with anybody, _**anybody**_ , so why did he choose you?  
  
You have no idea but you can’t even ask because, well, you and Harry _**don’t** _ talk about things like that. You’ve been dating for almost a year now and there hasn’t been one word of affection, there’ve been the touches and looks, of course, but after a year it’s not enough… On the other hand, talks alks about feelings are so _**awkward**._ And so are you. And you’re back where you started – so why does he even like you?  
  
Harry starts humming to the song and you turn to face him, he pulls his hands away from your waist and rests them on the bed. You look into each other’s eyes for just a second and you open your mouth to ask him the question, _why does he like you_ , just _**why**_ \- at the same moment he opens his and says the most honest “I love you” you’ve ever heard.  
  
In fact, the first I love you you’ve ever heard.  
  
And it hits you like a thousand knives stabbing you all over your body.  
  
Harry loves - not likes, loves you. Harry **_loves_ ** you. _**You.**_  
  
And you’re not even sure if you can let this happen. The fans hate you for being with Harry and you’ve received a fair amount of death threats, and sure, even Eleanor, Danielle and Perrie get those, but you’ve got _**nothing**_ on them.  
  
“Harry, I—” you cut yourself off. His beautiful eyes stare into yours and you can’t handle this, it’s too much really, so you look away, you’re sure the pain’s written all over your face, so you stand up and grabbing your purse, you say: “I’ve gotta go.”  
  
You can hear him sitting up in the bed and as you quickly walk to the coat hanger, he asks, confusion in his voice: “Are you leaving? What— why?”  
  
Putting on the coat, you turn to him and say in a shaky voice: “I just remembered I’ve got this… thing.”  
  
“At midnight?” he asks at the same time as you close the door behind you and you run down the hallway as quickly as you can. Tears stream down your face like waterfall as you reach for the exit and you inhale deeply the air as soon as you’re outside the building.  
  
You’re not even sure what’s happened in the last 5 minutes, it’s all such a blur. Did Harry really tell you he loved you? And did you really just ran out of his appartment just because you couldn’t  _ **handle**_ hearing it?  
  
This is just another example of what a fuck up you are, you definitely aren’t normal.  
  
Phone buzzes in your pocket and you know it’s Harry before you take it out to find out, but you don’t take the call, just put the phone on silent instead before shoving it back into your pocket.  
  
You continue crying until you get home and even then you can’t stop. You cry yourself to sleep.  
  
:::  
  
You wake up and as you glance at your phone to find out what time it is, you find 7 missed calls and 4 unread messages.  
  
First message read: _What did I do?_  
  
Second one: _I don’t know what I’ve done wrong but I’m sorry .xx_  
  
Third one: _Y/N, what has happened? Are you okay? .x_  
  
The fourth message didn’t even end in kisses, it just said: _Please call me_  
  
But you couldn’t call him, could you? You have to figure out what… why… how… you don’t even know, you just have to sort yourself out. You have to start loving yourself before accepting Harry’s love, that’s all you need to do, right?  
  
:::  
  
It took almost a month until you found peace with yourself. _**A bloody month.**_ The phonecalls and messages had stopped after the first two weeks, the last one said: _Does this mean it’s over?_  
  
And you couldn’t even reply to that one, because you didn’t know what it meant. But you were sure Harry would wait for you, he would _**know**_ you would explain yourself, that you wouldn’t leave him without a reply forever.  
  
Today’s the day. You’ll finally reply to him. You’ll finally tell him you love him, too, because you know now that you do and you can let him love you because you **_do_** deserve his love. You _**are**_ worth it.  
  
You grab your coat, the exact same coat you had on that day, and leave your appartment. In the cab you think about what the first thing you say to him should be… until you figure it out.  
  
When you are finally at his doorstep, you hesitate whether you should knock or not, cause you can hear muffled voices and giggles and subdued music through the door. Harry’s not alone and maybe you should have called first, but that would ruin it and now that you’ve came all the way here, you’re not just gonna leave without telling him what you came here to tell him.  
  
You knock on his door, heart pounding out of your chest, sweaty palms, dry mouth. When the door opens and Harry’s standing in front of you, you blurt out: “I love you, too.”  
  
He’s got this confused look that you’ve always found so adorable and it takes you just a second more to realise he’s only in his boxers and that wouldn’t normally surprise you or anything but when he shoots a worried look back in his appartment, you remember you heard those voices and the giggling, _**girly**_ giggling and you push him away from the door as you walk into his appartment, looking for the girls. They are sitting on the couch, _**two**_ girls in only underwear, two _**gorgeous**_ girls in underwear, but what’s worse, _**none**_ of them is _**you** _ and it **_should_** be you sitting there in your underwear, because after all you’re his girlfriend, aren’t you?  
  
“Harry?” You turn to him and his confused look has turned into a frightened one and you realise the song that’s playing is the same song you listened to the night he told you he loved you and _**how dare he**_ play _**that song**_ to _**those sluts?**_  
  
“I— I can explain,” he says and you’ve got your arms crossed over your chest now and you’re really waiting for him to find an acceptable explanation even though you know he won’t cause honestly, how can he eplain this other than the obvious?  
  
“I thought we were over,” he finally spoke and if your eyebrows could get just a bit higher they’d get lost in your hair.  
  
“You thought we were over,” you repeat blankly, trying to wrap your head around the fact that Harry _ **actually** _ thought you’d broken up with him so he started whoring around and _**what the fuck Harry?**_  
  
“You wouldn’t return my calls, you ignored my texts and—”  
  
“I hate you,” you interrupt him and just a second later, you find yourself running out of his appartment again, and again in tears.  
  
And maybe this is the last time. And you _**hope to God**_ that this is the last time, because you can’t handle getting your heart broken like that again.  
  
Because you gave him all. You really gave him all.


	2. Liar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But please, don't cry... you liar...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song to this chapter  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BoOXCBFVoQ8

You exit the building as quickly as you can and Harry doesn’t even try to stop you and you can’t really blame him cause well it must be obvious that you wouldn’t stop anyway but well, he could have at least tried, he _**should have**_ … but he didn’t… and it _**hurts**_.  
  
You’ve been together for almost a year - but maybe you should use a different tense cause you’re not together anymore now, are you? - and he even told you he loved you so why would he do that? And why doesn’t he fight for you? Was it - is it - to get back at you? Did you really hurt his feelings that much? Not as much as he hurt yours, that’s for sure. Or did he really think you two were over and this was his way of trying to move on? Might be. He’s a guy after all and guys do that kind of stuff, they compensate their feelings through sex, right? And why are you trying to justify his behaviour? Even if guys ARE like that, this was Harry and you thought he wasn’t like that… and it _**hurts**_.  
  
As soon as you get home, you get the ice-cream out of the freezer and put all the sad songs you’ve ever downloaded on loop and you sob into the ice-cream carton, not replying to Harry’s texts again and he says he wants to talk to you and that he’s sorry but you couldn’t care less about his apologies because… well, because it _**hurts**_.   
  
:::  
  
After four days of being locked in your appartment, not washing your hair and ignoring Harry, you can hear a knock upon your door and you really don’t feel like answering and the feeling’s even stronger when you hear Harry’s voice yelling YOU CAN’T IGNORE ME FOREVER and why couldn’t you?  
  
The knocking continues and you’re really annoyed so you just shout: “Go away Harry!”  
  
“No,” you can almost see the frown on his forehead and you chuckle at the image, but you remember you’re supposed to be mad at him and you shouldn’t be chuckling, so you just pull the annoyed face again.  
  
“I’ll camp here if I have to,” Harry says and you sigh.  
  
“I DON’T CARE,” you shout and you’re trying to convince yourself that you really don’t.  
  
But you do, _**of course**_ that you do, and you pull the most surprised face at him when you leave your appartment two hours later ‘to get milk’. “You’re still here?” you ask as though you didn’t hear him talk to you through the door every now and then, reminding you he’s not leaving.  
  
And just seeing him… _**hurts**_.  
  
“Y/N, I’m sorry,” he says and you’ve heard that already so why can’t he just move on and tell you something that would actually make a difference? “Can I come in?”  
  
You hesitate but after you’ve seen him, you can’t really say no to that face and you let him walk in. As you close the door behind him, he takes you by the hand and turns you to face him.  
  
“Y/N, there’s not a day I wouldn’t regret what I’ve done,” he says and puts your hands on his chest, you can feel his heart beating and it’s beating really fast and is that for you?  
  
You don’t know how to react so you just stare into his eyes, speechless and you can see he’s fighting the urge to kiss you so you free your hands and step back. He tries not to show the pain but you can see it’s there and he sighs heavily and goes on: “If you could just… forgive me. I still love you. I really do.”  
  
“I—”  
  
“We can make this work, Y/N. You said you loved me too, so if it’s true, just give me another chance… please.”  
  
You keep staring at him, not knowing what to do, cause he was supposed to be yours but this just… didn’t feel right, not anymore.   
  
“Maybe you should go,” you say at last and you can see the tears forming in his eyes so you look away cause you’ve never seen him cry… and it _**hurts**_.  
  
“But I said—”  
  
“I heard,” you cut him off and you open the door again to let him out. He gives you one more look before stepping out and you slam the door behind him and run back to your room, jumping in bed in tears. It was such a bad idea, letting him in, talking to him, because it _**hurt**_. _**So much.**_  
  
And it still _**hurts**_.  
  
Everyday.  
  
Until it hurts no more.


	3. Sigh No More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love will not betray you, dismay or enslave you, it will set you free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song to this chapter  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ujv3c0TqLRk

You got over Harry quite fast, it took you just three weeks to find another boyfriend, Jack, though that was just a rebound, but you couldn’t admit that to yourself back then. You broke up with him after a month because you realised you didn’t really like his tattoos and you don’t want a tattooed boyfriend… _cause it reminded you of Harry so much._  
  
After Jack, you dated Scott and you were so into each other, he was a musician and that was so hot, he wrote a few songs for you and that was so sweet, but then you realised you don’t want a boyfriend who’s job is so unstable, but really, _he just reminded you of Harry._  
  
After half a year with Scott, you dated Lucas, who treated you like a princess and made you breakfast in bed every time you spent the night but you soon got sick of it, though the truth is, _him doing breakfast in bed reminded you of Harry._  
  
Two months with Lucas were enough, but then you met Ethan, sweet curly Ethan and you thought he might be the one, but after a year you realised he might not be what you’re looking for… _or maybe he just reminded you of Harry._   
  
Then you spent 6 months being single, claiming to be ‘looking for love’ but you refused every guy before he would even approach you. _None of them were Harry._   
  
And then you met Harry.  
  
It was four years after your break up, you were at your favourite coffeeshop, waiting for your order, when a familiar voice behind you said: “Let me guess, mocha latté with just a dash of cinnamon?”  
  
You turn to face Harry and you’re speechless for a while, he hasn’t changed a bit, well actually he has changed a lot but it’s still the same Harry and you haven’t seen him for four bloody years, if you don’t count the occasional articles in magazines and photos on the Internet which you couldn’t really avoid, but still. Seeing him stand in front of you, showing off those dimples as he smiles widely, that wasn’t fair.  
  
You keep your cool though, and reply in a casual tone: “Actually no, I don’t drink that anymore.”  
  
“Oh I was just guessing. My name’s Harry by the way.”  
  
He’s smiling at you and oh, how you’ve missed that smile, you’ve missed it more than you care to admit, but what is he doing? You know his name and you want to tell him that but before you even open your mouth, he continues.  
  
“I couldn’t help but notice your beautiful eyes and I thought, ‘hey, that girl’s really pretty, maybe I should talk to her’, so here I am… doing that.”  
  
“I don’t—”  
  
“Before you say anything, you should know that I’m not usually this creepy and insistent but I really feel this connection between us,” he says and you still don’t know how to react.  
  
“Um, Harry—”  
  
“That’s my name,” he interupts you again. “What’s yours?”  
  
Your name is called out in that moment and you take your coffee, shooting hesitant glances back at Harry.  
  
“Y/N, that’s a pretty name,” he says and motions to the nearest booth. “If you don’t have a boyfriend right now, we could just sit here for a while and get to know each other, what do you think?”  
  
And you finally realise what he’s doing. He wants to start fresh.  
  
“Why not,” you say and sit on a chair opposite him. “Who could resist those curls.”


End file.
